Child of the Snows
by Nathander
Summary: The PpG, now at the age of thirteen, will find themselves and their friends fighting for their lives as they are forced into a conflict that has been foretold for several milleniums. The thing being fought over? The life of one mere boy who's more than


A Child of the Snows  
  
By Nathander  
  
There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,  
  
And never before or again,  
  
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,  
  
And the dark is alive with rain.  
  
Never we know but in sleet and in snow,  
  
The place where the great fires are,  
  
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth  
  
And the heart of the earth a star.  
  
And at night we win to the ancient inn  
  
Where the child in the frost is furled,  
  
We follow the feet where all souls meet  
  
At the inn at the end of the world.  
  
The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,  
  
For the flame of the sun is flown,  
  
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,  
  
And a Child comes forth alone.  
  
-"A Child of the Snows", GK Chesterton  
  
He shivered the cold of the snow biting into his legs as it whipped into his face, the flakes flowing about as if the air in a hurricane had solidified. He was but a mere boy, only about five, and the usual play clothes he wore were not adequate protection from the relentless winter weather. All the fire that was left within him, his energy and strength, into his small brown eyes, the snow having made a cold white cap over his gentle brunette hair.  
  
His first thought was that he wished he had a coat.  
  
The second was he wished he knew where he was.  
  
The third, and final one, was that he wished he knew WHO HE was.  
  
A mom, and dad, siblings; did he ever have any? He couldn't remember them. And if he did, why would they let a little boy go out into the cold by himself? Even though he was only five, even he knew such a decision was wrong. Still, if he had a mother right now, even one as careless as his, if she existed, seemed to be, he'd run to her, snuggling deep into her arms. He'd let the warmth of her grasp penetrate him, warming his smaller body as they made their way home. But that wasn't going to happen, and even the child knew it.  
  
He felt his knees begin to shake more violently, and knew that was a single that he couldn't go much farther. He didn't feel it when his legs finally gave out and he collapsed into the snow, the last thing he saw before he blacked out and lost consciousness was a trace of blue.  
  
"Blue........"  
  
Blossom, now a young girl of thirteen, sat at the table in the kitchen, a stack of paper and pencils before her and a cup of tea beside that. Though they had begun to go into the period of life of being a teenager, considered the time when the most changes are made, few had really happened to the girls Townsville loved and adored. They had, of course, gotten taller, and their bodies had begun to take the most natural progression that any girl's does at that time. The flipper-looking appendages that had served as hands had begun to somewhat change as well. Due to the biological change of the girl's chemical makeup, the Chemical X had provided most of the change, as well as beginning to have fingers take the place of the flipper-like appendages. While this was not completely through yet, it had become obvious. They had also replaced their small dresses with the more casual t-shirts and blue jeans, though each shirt still went with their corresponding color. Still, they each had a dress for their current size for special occasions.  
  
Personality wise, the girls had changed even less than they had physically. Blossom had taken to continue to pursue the path of an intellectual, usually doing essays on subjects she herself considered interesting on her own free time. She was currently in the process of writing one on the philosophical ideals of which was true: dualism or materialism. Bubbles, meanwhile, had remained a carefree spirit. She held her continued interest in animals and would, on the weekends (if they weren't fighting crime in some miraculous fashion) helped at the local ASPSA. She was currently out taking a walk in the snow, something she continued to adore (still seeing snow, in fact, in the magical light children of five would have), despite the fact that it was completely storming. And Buttercup..............  
  
Well, Buttercup was Buttercup, pure and simple. Currently, she was leaning on the opposite side of the table, bouncing a small plastic ball against the opposite wall. Blossom frowned, knowing that she'd due this for the mere sake of trying to irritate her while she was working. However, she also tried to keep in mind the other reason she was currently behaving this way: she was worried about Bubbles. She had, in fact, called Bubbles an idiot for wanting to go for a walk. While Blossom condoned this kind of attitude, she knew it was one of the few ways her sister could find to show her fear and love for her sister, however misguided it may be.  
  
Still, she really couldn't take the continued, small 'thump' the ball made upon hitting the wall much longer, nor the continuous rhythm it had come to have. "Buttercup, please...." she said, trying to sound more commanding than pleading.  
  
"Hey, I'm going for a new record." The brunette-haired puff stated. "You write your stupid little essay, I'll bounce the ball."  
  
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.........................  
  
"Couldn't you at least do it somewhere else?" she inquired, trying to keep her voice from seeming too seething.  
  
"Well, sure, I COULD....." Buttercup began, and her sister knew she was in for Buttercup's usual rationalization that would lead to why she was still going to irritate her. "But the wall here is a lot easier to hit, and the tile makes it bounce higher and farther when it comes back so I don't have to worry about applying too much force into it. Remember last time when I tried this in the frontroom?"  
  
She did indeed the last time she had did this in the frontroom. The ball had gotten lodged into the wall, creating a small tunnel along with it. "It hadn't helped when you tried to dig it out either."  
  
"How was I supposed to know it would make the hole worse?"  
  
"It's common logic! You can't put something bigger than the hole INTO that hole and not expect the hole to expand some!"  
  
"I was ten!" Buttercup shouted, her temper flaring along with Blossom's. She didn't, however, shout loud enough to alert the Professor from his lab. He had discovered his first few gray hairs only last week, and she wasn't planning to help speed that process along.  
  
"And how you've matured." Her sister said bitingly.  
  
That had done it. Hurling the ball at the wall, it surprisingly didn't embed itself there. It did, however, richoteted back towards the direction it had come from and, Buttercup ducking out of its path, hit Blossom in the forehead. The red-haired puff fell backwards from her chair, the ball gently landing beside her. Getting back up and bringing the small ball with her, she smirked at her sister. "So that's how it's going to be, huh?"  
  
Buttercup smirked back. "Yup. That's how it's going to be."  
  
A short pause. Then, both tensing up, the leaped at each other, both of them hitting the floor and, laughing and screaming, began to have a playful tussle with each other. Over the years, the two's original animosity towards each other had dwindled down more towards a grudging respect, the sisterly love that had been original buried beneath their animosity having become a bit more obvious.  
  
Buttercup gagged as Blossom attempted to shove the ball down her throat. She quickly spit it back up at her sister, the ball smacking her in the face again as she gave a vicious tug to Blossom's long hair. "Ow! Dammit! No hair tugging! The one thing we've always agreed on is NO HAIR TUGGING!"  
  
"Yeah? Well, I don't remember us saying shoving a friggin' ball down my throat was fair game either!" the tomboyish one declared, smiling slightly, her voice a mixture of dead seriousness and playfulness.  
  
And when I said it had become a bit more obvious, I did mean only a BIT.  
  
The sisters had also, out of necessity during their scuffles, learned to jump. Flying around the house in their taller bodies was out of the question. They had learned this only a year ago when, during one of the scuffles, Blossom attempted to fly and slammed her head into one of the light fixtures. While it hurt, it didn't require a trip to the doctor. It did, however, require a new light fixture.  
  
They had almost missed the sound of the front door opening over the sounds of their scuffle. Their empathy for each other, however, had also improved, and they could tell when one or the other of them had left and come back quite easily. It was for this reason Buttercup didn't try to sneak out at night, which would have been something expected of her; she knew Blossom would try to blackmail her for it. Pushing Buttercup off of her, Blossom was the first to run out to greet their sister, Buttercup maintaining a quick pace behind her. They stopped quickly when they saw what she was had come in possession of.  
  
Their sister, clad in a large winter jacket who's hood covered every inch of her face except her eyes, was holding a little boy in her arms. As if sensing the question that was doubtlessly on her sister's lips, she told them "Mi fmffv hmf imf a snvnodwft."  
  
"Bubbles, you're hood." Blossom sighed in exasperation, the sight of the one they considered the youngest sister holding a young child not that expected.  
  
The blonde set the boy down on the couch next to her and quickly undid her hood, it resting over her shoulders. While she occasionally still did her hair up in ponytails, she had wanted to try to grow it out a bit. It was currently a bit longer than Buttercup's, though nowhere near the length Blossom's. "I found him in a snowdrift." She repeated, the concern for the boy's well being obvious in her voice. "Do you think he'll be okay?"  
  
"I'm really uncertain." Blossom responded, wishing she could be more comforting. Then, to try to help be assuring "It doesn't look like he has frostbite." She turned to the dark-haired sister and asked "Buttercup, could you get a blanket?"  
  
Buttercup nodded. "Right." She replied, running to the closet where they kept extra sheets, blankets, and towels. While she knew it was more expected of her to fight her sister when asked to do something, she realized the severity of this situation, and thus did as asked. Besides, she enjoyed running; she found she could run as quickly as she could fly, which made up for the fact that the previous form of transformation had to be nixed when in the house. She got what appeared to be the heaviest she could find and went right back, handing the blanket to Bubbles. She knew that sister would probably want to be the one to cover him up.  
  
And, naturally, it was. Bubbles did it very gently as to keep the child comfortable. When finished, she remained standing over him, looking upon him with a mix of sadness and concern. "Why would he be out there all alone?" she inquired, her voice showing she was trying to keep back tears. "How could people let a little boy go out in such a bad storm all alone?"  
  
"There are bad people out there like that, you know that Bubbles." Blossom explained. "There are parents who really.....well, shouldn't have HAD kids, or at least shouldn't have custody of the ones that they do have."  
  
"Yeah.......but why kids. Its so mean to do that." The blond replied, still looking with that same expression at the boy. "When you're a kid, it should be a real happy time, filled with wonder and mystery and amazement at the things in the world. Even though we had to fight supervillians when we were kids, and still do, we were ALWAYS happy. It's like we got to live out little kids' fantasies. Why do we get that when others really shouldn't."  
  
Blossom smiled slightly. While she was still sweet, innocent Bubbles, most of her naitivity from when she was younger was gone. Not all, but most, and what had been behind it was a keen imagination and perception of childhood. She turned, about to leave, before telling them "I'll go get the Professor. He'll tell us what to do."  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
"Son of a..." Mitch had begun to proclaim in anger at the television screen before remembering he was in a guest's house.  
  
Mitch had only changed a bit. While he cut his hair so it wasn't that much longer than it had been, it was still an unruly mess. He commonly wore whatever it was he picked up first thing in the morning, which was commonly a t-shirt, old jeans, and some sneaker that were passed their prime. He found himself able to put the game control down before he hurled it into the TV screen.  
  
"You know, you could take my advice." The boy next to him told him, his meek voice trying to carry some authority. Mike Believe was dressed somewhat similar to Mitch, though his clothes were much cleaner and were the brighter colors of light blue jeans and a green shirt. He had also started wearing glasses within the last two years, something he had despised and, if his family had had enough money, would've asked for contact lenses to replace them with.  
  
The two had ended up, in a strange set of circumstances, becoming friends. Both had never really had any actual friends, and neither were adept at social skills. Grudgingly, they had each been the other's last choice and, seemingly, the only choice that worked. True, Mike was still friends with the Powerpuff Girls, but he had never really gotten close enough to be more than a very friendly acquaintance, as he had been (and, to some extent, still was) nervous around girls.  
  
"I could, but I'm not." Mitch replied, taking the controller back into his hands as he found himself starting over which was, not surprisingly, a shooter.  
  
Mike's mother, a thin, yet kind looking woman, looked in from the entrance to the living room from the kitchen. "Would you like to stay with us for dinner Mitchell?" she asked with a gentle and soft voice, a reflection of her physical appearance.  
  
Mitch shook his head. "Nah. Thanks for asking, but I should probably be heading back home soon. Grandma doesn't like me staying away for more than three or so hours at a time."  
  
"Alright." She replied, getting his jacket, which had definantly seen better days. As he took it, he could hear her say under her breath "I put twenty dollars in the right pocket for your grandma."  
  
He froze for a moment before giving a gentle nod and taking the jacket. He had wanted to hug her for this, but that wouldn't be manly. It was stupid for a guy to just go around giving hugs, he knew that. But this little sign of affection.......it helped, it really did. His grandma, his only living relative left, was unable to work as she had done when she took care of him in kindergarten. To try and repay her, he had found himself doing several odd jobs, though they paid just barely enough to get buy. Money, any bit no matter how small, was well appreciated by him. Putting the jacket on, he went to the door and with a small wave, said goodbye to this family that had treated him so kindly. This kinds of things were one of the reasons he really like Mike; he didn't know it, but he and his mom were probably two of the kindest people he had ever met. He actually ENJOYED Mike's company, to tell the truth, though he wished the kid (who he occasionally treated as if he was slightly younger than he was) would ease up.  
  
He shivered slightly at how cold it was outside. This was EASILY the worst snowstorm the town had ever suffered. Well, at least the worst that had occurred while he was alive. He didn't MIND the cold that bad, as living in squalor without heating somewhat made that necessary. The only real problem he had right now was, in fact, how deep the snow was and how far he had to go to get home.  
  
He was especially nervous as he crossed through one of the more deserted parts of town. If anything, he was hoping to get through them and to home without-  
  
"Mitch." Said a voice that was the same age as his. Mitch would've thought it a girl's if he hadn't known better. He clenched his fists in irritation and anger.  
  
"Hey Aaron." He responded, obviously unhappy with how these things were going.  
  
The boy named Aaron came out from wherever he was hiding in the shadows of one of the buildings, which had been all deserted and most condemned a few years ago. It was the poorest side of the town. The boy himself was Mitch's age, wearing an old, white button-down shirt and some obviously torn up and beaten formal pants that he had obviously found by going through a garbage can. He didn't bear to wear shoes.  
  
Mike also noticed that his footsteps were in-synch with softer footsteps. He could have hidden it if he wore shoes. 'They're trying to circle around me." He thought. As they appeared, he took count 'Six, there are six of them.'  
  
"Have you thought any more on the offer?" he inquired.  
  
"I already said no." he retorted, trying to think while he did so. 'If I keep talking for awhile and than in mid-sentence immediately break off and rush the two on my left, there's a chance I can get past them and run like hell for home.' "I don't have time for working with you."  
  
"You could make time." He offered, the softness showing an odd sound that seemed to be impatience and irritation.  
  
"Maybe I could, so I guess the REAL answer is I don't WANT to." He retorted smirking. "So, I guess the way to finish this is by saying that I-"  
  
'Time to move.'  
  
Breaking off his sentence, he ran as fast as he could, head down as he hoped to push past the two blocking the way towards home. Unfortunately, the two were quick enough to stop him, grabbing him by his arms. "Damn." He whispered angrily to himself.  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddddddddddddyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!" Princess pouted, wrapping her arms around herself, which was clad in an expensive fur coat, while stamping in the snow. "I don't WANT to be here."  
  
Mr. Moorebucks sighed as he looked on at the delivery vans coming to the several warehouses he owned. Seeing as how it didn't look like the storm had any attention of stopping for awhile, he had quickly ordered several supplies that would be necessary for even just practical life. Some of it would be used for himself, though the majority he planned to sell to supermarkets and, possibly, some other business owners in the town personally. After all, that's the way business worked.  
  
And that's one of the things you needed to now how to run a business and to make a profit, even with something that didn't fall under the usual category of your business. You needed to take advantage of ANY opportunity when you saw it, snatching it up when it came before you and not letting it fall to others, even if those people were ones who SHOULD have made the deal. After all, ANYTHING that involved the making of money was fair game, inside our outside your specialty.  
  
These were some of the lessons his daughter needed to learn. She was his only child and, that being the case, she would be the one to take control of his company. He had SOME confidence in her, but with her lack of tact or any real skills to run a business (except, perhaps, her demanding nature), she needed some tutelage. He wished she could understand the lesson behind this, that being that the leader of a company couldn't always just seclude him-or-herself from public sight, though that person would, of course, prefer not to be seen.  
  
"Cold, cold, cold." She repeated irritably, her stamping becoming more rhythmic as her voice began to increase in tempo. "Cold, COld, COLd, COLD! COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD! COLD COLD COLD, COLD COLD COLD!" her voice had become a high-pitched wail of displeasure and anger.  
  
His fist had begun to quake. He loved her, yes, but that didn't stop the occasional (okay, frequent) desire to strike her. "Princess..........." he said through clenched teeth.  
  
"Yeeeeeeeeees, daddy?" she inquired of him, giving off a smile that mixed cuteness and smugness.  
  
"You may go and wait in the limousine."  
  
Her smile quickly faded back into a frown, displeased with this solution. "But I don't want to WAIT in the limousine!" she whined.  
  
"Fine." He said, irritation continuing to rise. "Tell Jeffery to take you home and come back to wait for me."  
  
Another smile. "Thank you daddy!" she responded, running off to the parking lot of the warehouse area.  
  
Maybe she didn't have tact or most necessary skills to run a business, but she DID have something else other than just her demanding nature, though the skill was in part to it. Still, it was a good skill to have.  
  
Manipulation, he supposed, was perhaps one of the most useful skills in a work place.  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
Professor Utonium, his eyes turned down to the coffee table, gently messaged his forehead with his left hand.  
  
The child his daughter had brought home was currently in the frontroom, playing with some of Bubbles' old blocks. While the child itself looked cute, it was also this little boy that happened to be the problem. He supposed it was better that they had TOLD him about the case instead of trying to hide the child from him. That would've just made it all the harder. "Bubbles......" he tried to begin.  
  
"Professor, can I just say something?" Bubbles interjected, hoping to find a bargain that they could agree on. "You had told us that if, someday when we became parents, we'd have to learn how to either look after a house or find a specific job we wanted, right? Well, what if I started cleaning and looking over the house regularly or get a part time job. " she stated this with a good deal of cheer.  
  
He sighed. He knew she would probably try to lay something like this down, and that would increase the trouble he'd have. Buttercup and Blossom were in the frontroom with the boy, giving the impression that they were playing along with him and watching him. However, he knew that they were actually trying to avoid having to see this due to what Bubbles reaction would undeniably be. "First Bubbles, NO girl of thirteen should be expected to have to carry out the duties of an adult. Secondly, Bubbles, " a deep sigh, "you know we can't keep him."  
  
"Why not?" Bubbles said, her voice pouty. While that could be irritating, he knew that she was really just trying to stop from crying. "He's not like a pet."  
  
While some would possibly think that she was purposely trying to guilt trip him or lay a trap in the debate, the Professor knew that this was just the way her mind still worked: innocent, while still remaining a little naïve. Still, the comment didn't stop him from being a little disturbed about what he had to say. "No, he's not. But keeping him would be a lot different than trying to keep a pet. There are SEVERAL legal procedures we'd have to go through to really legal have him as part of our family."  
  
"But I FOUND him." She said, her eyes beginning to sincerely fill with tears. "He was cold and unconscious and probably SCARED. I found him and I WANT to take care of him, so if I want to take care of him, shouldn't I be allowed to?"  
  
"It doesn't work that way, Bubbles. The child is, more than likely, an orphan, as the next city is easily a few miles away. That being the case, Bubbles, even though he doesn't have parents we can't legally keep him. We have to take him to an orphanage."  
  
"After we take him to the orphanage, can't we fill everything out to keep him?"  
  
"Bubbles, I really only have enough money to support the four of us. If I had more, I would have possibly considered this Bubbles." He actually did mean that. He knew what a kind heart his daughter had and, even though so young, he thought she actually DID have enough responsibility to play an older sister role (or mother role, if she wanted to rationalize it that way) to the boy. But the case was, he really COULDN'T support another mouth.  
  
"Then, like I said, I could go get a job!" she stated pleadingly, though trying to retain dignity by keeping back from crying.  
  
"You shouldn't have to get a job to help support a family, Bubbles. If you got a part time job, I'd want you to use that money for you. It's not yet your responsibility to take up that kind of role."  
  
"But I help protect the city all the time, so I sort of already HAVE had that role."  
  
"Bubbles............I'm sorry, but the answer is no."  
  
By now, she just allowed herself to let the tears come. "You don't have a problem with me protecting a city and possibly getting hurt, but you do with me trying to take care of a little boy? How does that work?" that was the first time he had really heard her sound angry.  
  
"Bubbles....." He said, trying to find a way to get her to see what he ment. "You know that's not what I mean. I'm worried about you always having to do that, but-"  
  
"But what?" she interjected. "You don't care enough to take me away from something that could get me killed but you do to stop me from taking care of a kid I found? Tell me, what's it is this is supposed to mean?"  
  
He opened his mouth to answer her, but drew (to his own dismay) a blank. It really wouldn't have mattered; she had already rushed upstairs to the room (breaking the 'no flying' rule) and had slammed the door tight. Closing his eyes, he gently clenched his hands together and rested his head on them, trying to think what he should do, what would be appropriate to do in a situation like this.  
  
Blossom came over to him. "I'll go talk to her if you want." The Professor nodded, thankful for his daughter's decision but unable to really say anything. Blossom decided she might as well also tell him what she and Buttercup had decided. "Also, Buttercup and I had been talking about what we'd do if this was the case, and we..............well, Buttercup's going to go take him to orphanage now so that he can get into a safe place quickly enough......and Bubbles won't have to deal with having him around much longer knowing we'll have to give him up."  
  
He looked up at his daughter. "I wish you two hadn't taken that decision into your own hands."  
  
She gave a smile, trying to be humorous. "Do you really want to get into another debate like the last one?"  
  
He smiled weakly back at her. "I suppose you're right. Go ahead then................both of you."  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
Mitch lurched back in pain as another blow was delivered to his stomach, Aaron's two lackeys still holding him by the arms while the other delivered the punishment. After that hit, the two lackeys heaved and then threw him to the ground, the force sending a jarring wave through his teeth, feeling them chatter a little. Trying to lift his head, he soon found it forced back to the concrete as Aaron's foot stepped upon it. "This really is pointless, you know, and you have so much potential."  
  
"I've already told you my answer about joining your gang." He replied angrily, forced to grit his teeth.  
  
"You're a stupid son of a bitch, you know that, don't you?" Aaron told him dully. "No one here is ever going to get anywhere. No one has, and no one ever will. At least, no where in the real forms of society. But you COULD go somewhere here. Why don't you see that?"  
  
"Two reasons: one is because I don't want to see it. The second is that it's bullshit."  
  
The foot came off his head for a moment........to quickly launch itself into it's side. The force flipped Mitch onto his back, the foot now holding him down on his stomach. He could also now see Aaron holding out his arm, motioning with his fingers for something. He had a moment that could work to his advantage and, though he didn't like fighting this way, he'd take it.  
  
Bringing his right leg in a flash, he struck Aaron in the grown. His eyes flashing wide open, Aaron's mouth turned to a comical 'o' shape. It quickly reverted to a frown and, though he was obviously in pain, it wasn't enough to get him to take his leg off him. Before he could prepare to try to strike him again, a lead pipe from the heating system of one of the old building's was put into Aaron's outstretched hand. "You poor fuckin' bastard." Aaron snarled, his usually soft voice mixing oddly with the emotion.  
  
Lifting the pipe overhead, preparing to crack Mitch's skull open, he was stopped by a single voice. "I really wouldn't do that if I were you."  
  
Aaron spun around, keeping a foot on Mitch's chest as he proclaimed with hot anger "And why would you give a f...."  
  
He stopped when he saw who it was. It was a tall boy, easily much older than them and probably in his mid to late twenties. His own clothing seemed to have actually been kept in better shape than most of the people living in the area, even owning a nice pair of sunglasses. He was currently holding a bottle in his left hand while leaning against one of the old buildings. The most notable feature of him was that his skin was an odd green tint. Aaron sneaked a look at Mitch, who was satisfied to see a look of shock and surprise on his face. He would have been more satisfied if it wasn't for the fact that he had a similar look on his face.  
  
Aaron quickly tried to compose himself. "I wasn't aware that he was a member of your gang. Hell, I wasn't even aware that the Gang Green Gang was letting new members in."  
  
"There can be exceptions." Ace told him, standing straight and stepping towards them. Aaron's voiceless lackeys, who usually would've stepped up to intercept a possible threat, instead moved backwards, trying to keep distance between themselves and the older boy. They'd decided they didn't really want to get on the bad side of the only recognized gang (though a somewhat harmless one) in the city.  
  
Aaron took his leg off Mitch, noticeably slightly shaking. "He never told us jack shit, so you can't hold us responsible for what would of happened."  
  
"Whatever." Ace replied simply with a shrug of his shoulders. When he saw Mitch get up, he used his right shoulder to give a slight motion. "C'mon kid, let's go."  
  
Still surprised, Mitch did so heedlessly and without looking back. 'The hell is this?' the confused jumble that had become his thoughts tried to process. 'He doesn't even know me and he helped me.' Then he thought he understood. 'He did it because he thought he possibly had the chance of getting money out if it. He wants me to pay him.' Without really realizing it, he had his hand in his right jacket pocket, unknowingly grasping the twenty-dollar bill Mike's mom had given him.  
  
Deciding to use the moment to his advantage when he got a good enough way away from Aaron, he quickly turned around and gave the finger before he continued on.  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
"Jeffery, when we get home could you have Helen make me some coffee?" Princess asked boredly as the limousine made its way back to Moorebucks manor.  
  
"Don't you think you're still a bit young to drink coffee, miss?" Jeffery said humbly, though giving a small smile. He and his wife were the two people the teenage girl seemed to have ever shown any respect too, even other her father. Or, at least, that's what he thought.  
  
And he was right. He and his wife, Helen, had been her own personal servants hired by her father to look after her after his wife died when Princess was two. Helen and himself were unable to have children and, thus, were glad to take a position in which they'd serve the child. She herself had a good deal of affection for the two, though she was determined not to show them, even in front of them. An employer does not show affection to an employee; that was one of the few rules of her father's she had bothered to listen to. "I believe I am old enough." She said haughtily.  
  
In her voice, however, he caught a sound that made it seem like she had been in deep thought. "What's bothering you, miss?" he asked her.  
  
"I might as well say it. After you get me home, daddy needs you to go back to wait for him to take him home."  
  
"Why's that bothering you miss?"  
  
He could see her smug smile in the mirror overhead, "Because," she stated, the sound of her voice easy to believe with the smile on her face, "if I hadn't told you, he'd be waiting there for you. So, him getting home by car would've been all up to ME. So make sure to tell him to thank me when he gets home after you pick him up."  
  
His smile grew a little wider. "Of course, miss." Of course, he would've gone to pick Mr. Moorebucks up regardless, but he didn't think he needed to tell her that.  
  
As he pulled in, he asked her "Would you like a candy cane in your hot chocolate, miss?" He and his wife, having served the girl for eleven years, knew what she liked by now, even though her tastes were so prone to quick change.  
  
"Please, Jeffery. That would be nice." She said, trying to sound formal though he could tell she didn't like having to talk that way. Again, Helen and he were the only ones she really talked to in such away.  
  
"Very good, miss." He said. "Very good."  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
Buttercup was starting to think that, maybe, Blossom and her's decision wasn't such a good idea. She wasn't nervous about walking through the dark streets when it was just her, as she could easily mercilessly beat any sex fiend who was stupid enough to try to go for her with the greatest of ease. Having a kid with her, however, ment she had to be more on guard, and she found she just didn't like the idea of having a kid with her OUTSIDE during dark. It was also, to her tests, way too damn silent. "So," she asked him, hoping to make some noise, "what's your name? You never told us, though I guess we should've asked anyway."  
  
The boy just looked up at her with his innocent eyes. Those, while not big as theirs', reminded her of the eyes of herself and her sisters. "Can you talk?" she stated somewhat suddenly, an immediate afterthought having been that she wished she had put some consideration into the question.  
  
He responded with a single word: "Blue."  
  
His voice was the usual young voice of a child, though it seemed almost sugary-sweet, like the voice of children in cartoons. Not only that, but the look in his eyes changed from a dull, bored look to a different one when he said it. The look contained emotions that usually didn't mix well: joy and sadness. This helped take her off guard, as well as the simple, seemingly meaningless word he had said. Then it clicked. He was happy just because he was WITH someone, but sad (or, more like disappointed) because he wasn't with the one he wanted to be with, that being Blue, or Bubbles. He had associated the word with Bubbles, as well as having associated Bubbles with his mother. "Hey," she said lightly, almost awed that she had actually figured that bit out, "are you tired? Want me to carry you for a bit or something?"  
  
No reply. He just kept a hold of her hand and trudged along through the snow. Then, there was a reply, but it was nonsensical..........and not from him.  
  
"My god..........." said (she was surprised to hear) another young voice, though only a little bit younger than her own. Turning around, she saw a boy of about ten running towards them. He wore a bright red t-shirt with (surprisingly) short-cut black jeans. His hair was black and grew long, almost halfway across his back. His other apparel was, to Buttercup, odd for a ten-year-old. He wore a pair of large boots which made humongous dents in the carpet of snow that covered the ground, and a long trenchcoat that seemed to make an odd trail, bringing snow along with it that covered up the holes made by his boots. Upon getting to them, he kneeled in front of the boy, his eyes tearing up. "Y.....you found my little brother." His voice was filled with emotion.  
  
"You're little brother?" her voice was filled with disbelief. If there had been a reported missing child, it would've gone to both the police and the Powerpuff Girls to help find the child. What kind of family would've not reported that their child was missing?  
  
The boy didn't respond. Reaching out to ruffle the child's hair, he was surprised when the five-year-old quickly retreated from his touch. That odd reaction was enough to get Buttercup's alertness ready, and when she saw a flash of steel underneath the trenchcoat, she knew that this was obviously some sort of odd ass ruse. She sent a punch straight into his mouth, spinning him around while he put his hands over his mouth in pain. "What the fuck is this?" she inquired coolly, "And what are you trying to pull?"  
  
Looking over his shoulder for a split-second at the girl, he quickly turned back around and pulled something from is trenchcoat. A quick beam of silver flashed across Buttercup's line of sight, taking her by surprise when a searing pain ran through her left arm. She quickly looked down and was surprised to see a long, though not deep, gash along it, blood gently trickling down it.  
  
She looked back at him to find him holding what appeared to be a chain with the blade of a scythe attached at the end of a long chain. There appeared to be three other such weapons hidden within the folds of the trenchcoat. The sight itself didn't surprise her just by the attacker's appearance, but by the fact that he had hurt her. From every other encounter she'd had when she and her sisters had been attacked, metals seemed to have no effects on them. "It was forged," he said, smirking (which caused the blood from his split lip to trickle down it and his chin), "with the use of the fires of hell. It can cut through ANYTHING."  
  
She smirked back, leaning back in a stance to attack him. "Now I get it. Has HIM gotten so irritated with getting his ass kicked by us that he's sent lackeys to take it for him?"  
  
"Silence, mortal!" he snapped, though his mouth staid in a smirk, "It's not you I want to have to fight. Give me the child, and I'll go away."  
  
"Oh, and why's that?"  
  
"Such knowledge is unsuitable for mortals to know." He rasped, his voice unable to hide his irritation.  
  
"Oh, no dice then." She told him.  
  
His irritation with the girl finally flaring up, he quickly reached for his weapon and prepared to fling it once again. He was, instead, taken off guard by the brilliant flare of green light as she flung herself into him, knocking him to the ground. She zoomed into the sky and, before he could get himself up, came down sideways, slamming her elbow into his stomach. She was satisfied with the pained sound he made. Getting up herself, she smiled coldly at him as she went back to the child. "That it?" she asked smartly. "You brag like a jackass and I beat you down in two blows? Very nice."  
  
She was surprised when two of the blades slammed in front of her, one of them almost skewering the child. While it (thankfully) missed him, she soon saw that neither was ment as an attack by the way the chains curved upward in the sky, as if something was still holding them there. When she looked over her shoulder to see, she was fairly surprised, though she didn't show it.  
  
All four of the chains were spread out across the area like the four sides of a building. They hoisted the young-looking demon in the sky, as if they were his legs. She soon found out that was, indeed, what he was using them as when the four chains began to move, each 'step' digging into the concrete under the snow for a secure foothold as the began to try to circle Buttercup off from the boy. His right arm held out straight, an amazingly long scythe materialized, seemingly from the arm of his trenchcoat. He gazed down at her, his eyes filled with pride and self-righteousness as he began to level the scythe's blade at the paralyzed boy. "It seems that you lose, both the fight and your life, and both were needlessly." He told her, his voice self-praising.  
  
Still smirking, Buttercup grabbed one of the chains and easily pulled it out from it's firm holding in the ground. The demon's eyes grew wide with surprise as the other three supports seemed to wobble and become unstable. Working quickly, she gave a tug that released the other three and flung the chain (and the young demon with it) into one of the nearby buildings, a factory.  
  
He hit the building hard and slid down it's length into the snow, moaning in pain. His chains laid on the ground in a limp mess, no longer seeming to possess the strength they had when they kept him in the air. Buttercup came over to meet him, still smiling. "Are you done yet?"  
  
Growling, struck at he with his actual scythe in a blinding flash.  
  
He was surprised, needless to say, when she caught it by its wooden shaft and broke it, the part with the blade in her grasp. She quickly lodged it about an inch from his head into the brick of the building. "Now I think you're done, and I really hope you are." She told him dully. "This has easily been the most boring, pointless, and easy fight I've had in awhile."  
  
Deciding she was right, for now, he dematerialized right before her eyes, disappearing in a flash.  
  
She turned back to the child, who was standing upright again and merely staring at her. She went over and took his hand. "Come on, let's go."  
  
"Orphanage?" he stated simply, obviously having picked it up from Buttercup and Blossom, who had said the word at least seven times in front of him.  
  
"Naw." She told him. "We're going to go on back home." She smiled playfully at him, though she wasn't expecting him to pick up on what she said next. "After all, not everyone can beat down a demon like that."  
  
"Blue?"  
  
She gave his hand a small squeeze of affection. "Yeah, Blue'll be there."  
  
She decided not to try to talk to him on the way back. She'd decided she prefered the quiet to think so that she could find out how to explain this to the Professor and her sisters.  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
"You know, you don't have to protect your money like that. I don't want payment." Ace told Mitch dully.  
  
Somewhat shocked and embarrassed, he took his hand away from the money and out in the open. "Then why the hell did you rescue me?" he inquired of him stubbornly.  
  
"Cause you've got potential." He said, almost having sounded the same as when Aaron said those words.  
  
"I'm not joining a gang." Mitch said simply and with force in his voice.  
  
"Wasn't going to ask you to."  
  
"So what do you mean, I have potential? Where the hell have you even seen me?"  
  
"When you've used this way to walk home before." Ace told him. "Some nights I'd come here by myself really to just dick around. I like hanging with the guys, but there are times that I need to get away. But back on topic. But, when I've seen you walking home, you seem awfully quiet, like you're thinking really deep........at least for what constitutes for it in this dump. Hell, even when I see other people walking around here by themselves, they're saying some shit on one thing or another to themselves, as if trying to show how tough they are on the off chance they run into someone." Seeing that he had empties his bottle, he threw it to the ground, the glass shattering.  
  
Mitch shrugged at what he told him. He had decided, also, that he might as well ask what he had wanted to from the very start of their very walk. "Why do you and your pals call yourselves a gang when, for the most part, you seem pretty harmless? No offense, but you're more immature than actually dangerous."  
  
Ace shrugged. "I've never really seen a 'need' to go into most gang activity. Roughing up, stealing, gang fights, arson, things like that seem fine enough to me. I will admit it's pretty sad that gangs like those kids are more bloodthirsty than mine. How'd you even meet them anyway?"  
  
"Aaron was really the only kid living near to me. Didn't know any of the kids at school all that well, so he was the only guy I could spend time with."  
  
There was silence for a bit until Ace stopped. "This is as far as I go. We're getting to close to the neighborhoods still lived in. You should be safe enough getting' home from here."  
  
"Thanks." Mitch said simply.  
  
"No problem." And, as Mitch walked away, he called after him, "By the way, don't tell ANYONE about this, understand?"  
  
Mitch just nodded.  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
Blossom had listened to Bubbles side, and now it was her turn to talk. "Bubbles did you really even listen to what the Professor had to say?"  
  
"Yes." Bubbles said, her voice slightly spiteful and pouty.  
  
"Okay, then did you UNDERSTAND what the Professor said?"  
  
"Ye-es."  
  
"Than why did he say what he said?"  
  
"Because he doesn't want me to get a job just because he doesn't want me to be able to help someone."  
  
Blossom sighed. "Bubbles, you're thinking like an eight year old. You DO realize you can't raise a kid yet, don't you?"  
  
"Why not?" Bubbles responded, actually getting a little angry with her sister. "I'm responsible enough to."  
  
"Responsibility isn't what the question is about." Blossom responded with a cool head, despite the fact that her sister was being silly. She found it odd that she had become so smitten with affection for a child she had only known for a few hours, and so much affection she wanted to assume the role of a mother. If they had been younger, she would've thought Bubbles was merely playing a game.  
  
"Then the question is about--?"  
  
"The Professor explained. We can't just take a kid in our home and keep him. It would be against the law, and you KNOW all this. Like the Professor said, there are several legal matters we'd have to go through and, on top of that, there's the possibility that we'd end up finding the real parents."  
  
"He shouldn't be give back to the real parents." Bubbles said matter-of- factly.  
  
"Granted, that really is true. But we can't just decide who does and doesn't have a child. We can't take the law into our own hands like this."  
  
"How's it that different from what we do every day? We're always stopping some criminal, or saving the world from total devastation, or something else along those lines. How's it different."  
  
"Because it's our nature to do those things." Blossom told her sister simply, with a hint of force in her voice.  
  
Bubbles narrowed her eyes slightly. "What do you mean?"  
  
"It's just NATURAL for us to do what we do like that. It's not like we simply decided to do it, it's what CAME to us. It's what we found we could do, and that it was what we wanted to do. On top of that, we found that we had abilities that helped us with it. And yes, it will be natural for us to raise children. But not yet." She put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Right now, the Professor just wants us to enjoy being teenagers. He already knows that, with what we do already, we're being denied some of that. He just doesn't want us to needlessly make this time even harder for us. And yes, he could stop us from fighting crime, and he probably wants us to, but he understand that what we do is a necessity."  
  
Bubbles was silent for a moment, trying to let all this sink in. "Better now?" her sister inquired of her with a smile.  
  
She gave a nod and gave a weak smile back. "Yeah, I think so."  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
"Did you have fun?" HIM's voice floated through the air of his residence at the appearance of the young demon. His voice was filled with amusement and mockery, irritating his subordinate.  
  
"You bastard." He said in a low, angry voice. "You didn't tell me about that girl and what she could do."  
  
"Did I not warn you about staying away from them as much as you can?" the slender demon asked in amusement, resting his head on one of his claws. "I had told you, specifically, that to fulfill our bargain all that was necessary was to kill the boy. Hopefully, this taught you a lesson in following orders, Adrammelech."  
  
"Why do you even want this done?" he asked his superior spitefully. "And, if it's so important to you, why didn't you do it yourself?"  
  
"Two reasons." HIM told him simply. "One is that, if you'll recall, you owe me at least twenty more souls before you've repaid your debt to me. Those weapons you use do not come free. Secondly," his eyes narrowed to slits, "surely you could feel who the boy was."  
  
Addrammelech's eyes went dim for a moment, then seemed to spark with life. "But, I thought we had slain him before."  
  
"We have." HIM said simply. "But you cannot stop what was foretold indefinantly. At least, in theory you can't." his eyes shone with anger as his voice changed, filled with anger and having become deeper. "I, for one, will NOT only look forward to an eternity in the lake of fire if he should fulfill what was foretold."  
  
"And if our master finds out we're behind this?" Adrammelech retorted. "What then? You know he will not take this offense lightly due to the consequences it could cause."  
  
"As usual, two problems with that. First is we've done this several times before. I highly doubt that Lucifer will figure out we're the perpetrators if he already hasn't. Secondly, what do we have to lose? No matter what, our fate is damnation; one is merely more excruciating than the other. And I don't really plan to have to deal with that."  
  
"And if these girls keep interfering?"  
  
HIM smiled. "Then I'll dispose of them myself."  
  
Adrammelech smirked. "Funny. I thought these were the same ones you've lost too several times before."  
  
"I've never created a situation in which I'd be justified in releasing the full extent of my wraith upon them."  
  
A pause, and then. "Surely, you don't mean you're going to try to......"  
  
HIM's smile widened, showing teeth as he nodded. "Correct. Like I said, we don't really HAVE much to lose. However," his eyes turned to slits as he said the next with glee, "I find it a necessity to bring in more players on our side, both mortals and demons. Obviously I can't do it alone, and you won't be enough to provide that much help."  
  
Clutching two of his chains tightly, he was prepared to attack his master before HIM caught what he was about to do. "I really wouldn't suggest that." He said, both taunting and warning before he smiled again. "Unless that is you'd like a trip to Gehenna before the rest of us."  
  
Adrammelech, deciding that really wasn't desirable, loosened his grip on his weapons. He'd wait until his debt was fulfilled, THEN he'd strike out in vengeance for the menial tasks he found himself doing.  
  
............................................................................ ...........  
  
Author's Note: I hoped you enjoyed this. This is the first chapter of a much longer story, and, in truth, wasn't as good as the others will be. I used this mainly as a reintroduction to some of the characters due to the time that's passed, and an introduction to a few of the fan characters. While I know this wasn't good, I PROMISE the next chapter will be better. Still, I hope this has peeked your interest and that you'll come back to read the rest. This fic, by the way, is rated R for some of the chapters will follow, as in the violence department this chapter was very tame. Also, I really would appreciate reviews and criticisms, even flames as long as they're not insanely insulting.  
  
Legal Info: I own none of the characters within except for the child and Adrammelech. 


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